Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities #8) - Shannon Messenger Page 0,76

into the hug, not realizing she was crying until she felt her tears soak into his tunic.

“All right, Foster,” he murmured into her hair. “I think we’re getting way ahead of ourselves here. So let’s back it up and try to focus on the facts for a second, okay?” He waited for her to nod against his shoulder before he said, “Okay, fact number one: We have absolutely no idea if Bronte is actually your biological father. I mean, yeah, it’s a solid theory. But it definitely could be wrong—just like you were wrong about Forkle, Kenric, and Jolie. So try to let go of all those nightmare scenarios I’m sure you’re imagining right now—at least until we have actual proof. Which brings me to fact number two: We need to prove whether or not this is true. And thankfully, it shouldn’t be hard to do. We just need to get you, me, and Bronte in a room. Then I’ll grab his hands while you ask if he’s your father—and boom. My mad Empath skills will get you your answer.”

“But… then he’ll know I know,” Sophie reminded him. “And if he is my father—”

“Then at least you guys will understand each other,” he supplied for her. “And let’s face it—it’s not like you’re going to be able to hide this. Every time you look at him, you’ll be a puddle of panic and rage. It’s better to get it out there, find out the truth, and then figure out where you go from there.”

Sophie sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am—how many times do I have to tell you I’m a genius before you start believing me?” He laughed, and Sophie could feel the soft vibration where her cheek was pressed against his chest. “Anyway, back to my brilliant facts—and moving on to number three! Once you confront Bronte—”

“Hopefully in a super-dramatic way,” Ro cut in, making Sophie and Keefe both jump so hard that Sophie’s forehead crashed into Keefe’s chin.

“Forgot you weren’t alone?” Ro asked, raising her eyebrows as Keefe pulled away from the hug.

Sophie totally had.

And Ro wasn’t the only eavesdropper she should’ve been thinking about.

“Whatever you’ve heard,” she called to Sandor and Bo, and maybe Flori, if she was back from her patrols, “it’s—”

“Not to be repeated,” Sandor finished for her, leaning his head through the doorway. “Yes, I know. Have I ever given you any reason to doubt my respect for your privacy?”

“No. But this is way bigger than anything I’ve asked you to keep secret before,” she felt the need to point out.

“I’m well aware of its significance—and its implications. And that’s all the more reason to trust that the information is safe with me. You also have my word that it’s safe with anyone under my command.” The promise was made along with a grunt that sounded like maybe Sandor had kicked Bo to make sure he got the message. “And that’s true regardless of whether your suspicions turn out to be correct. I also agree with Mr. Sencen—and you know how much it pains me to say that. This is still only a theory—the kind of theory that absolutely must be proven before you decide what to do with the information. And for the record, I will be there when you confront Councillor Bronte—and I don’t recommend resorting to dramatics.”

“Aw, come on, Gigantor!” Ro whined. “How many times does a girl get a chance to stomp into a room and demand to know if someone’s her daddy? Bonus points if she can squeak out a few tears—and then follow it up with a face slap!” She let out a wistful sigh. “Should we also take bets on what the verdict’s going to be?”

“No bets!” Sandor ordered, stalking closer to Sophie and waiting for her to make eye contact. “I think it’s also important that you understand something very clearly, Miss Foster. If Bronte makes any threats during this confrontation—verbal or otherwise—I will subdue him. It won’t matter that he’s a Councillor and could cause diplomatic issues for me. My job is to protect you.”

Sophie tried to swallow, but a lump had lodged in her throat. “Bronte wouldn’t—”

“Wouldn’t he?” Sandor interrupted. “We both know the things he’s already put you through. And if this theory is true, it’s a secret he’s gone to great lengths to protect. There’s no telling what he’ll do if he fears exposure. In fact, I almost wish you’d go to Mr. Forkle for confirmation instead. He can’t inflict